of a brave man. He would not hold me back in any way, but would
give me my chance, and take his own. He had to reach the bench,
too, which was risky, and that, no doubt, had delayed him. I swam
up to him, and he laughed and spluttered.

"Is all going well? Where is the boat?" he gasped.

"Very well," I said. "But why not tell me you could not swim? I
would have hove up the boat alongside for you."

"Aye, and so have been seen," he said. "I saw this bench, and--"

The sea filled his mouth, and he had to be silent. I saw the boat
coming to us as the wind drifted her, and swam round him, while he
splashed wildly as the bench lifted to the waves. Then I saw what
was amiss, and got it across and under his chest, and he was happy.

"It is the first time I have ever been out of my depth," he said.
"I shall be happier yet when I am in the boat. Yonder she comes!"

I turned my head sharply at that, for he was looking north. We had
been running northward dead before the wind when we went overboard,
and any boat thence must needs come from the ship.

Then I saw no boat at all, but only the head of a man who swam
slowly toward us, and into my mind it came that this was one of our
own men who had seen us go, from amidships, and had managed to
follow. So I hailed him, but the answering voice was strange to me.
With a few strokes the swimmer neared us, and I saw that he was a
young man, brown-haired and freckled, with a worn, anxious face,